Chloe L'Eau de Chloe: fragrance review

Cast your eye back to the days when you were a kid in a floral print sundress, pig-tails hanging down the sides of your face, flowers pinned carefully on the hair by an older sister or attentive mother, and selling lemonade off a kiosk outside your school or terraced porch to amass money for summer camp (or something along those lines). I hear this gets done a lot in America. I can only tell you that I hadn't had any of those experiences, but lemonade drinking I did as a kid. A lot. It was the official drink of summer (along with sour cherry juice which is just as delicious, if not more) and gulping it down, all thirsty after a run in the fields cutting off wild roses & poppies or a swim in the sea, was one of the major joys of careless late spring and summer days. Perhaps there's something of that ~childhood-reminiscent, innocent and eager about it all~ that is so very refreshing and uplifting when we encounter a citrusy smell. Perhaps that's also why perfume companies are sure to bring forth a slew of citrusy colognes and fragrances into the market with the regularity of a Swiss clock, each spring as soon as the caterpillars turn into butterflies. There's just something optimistic, open and joyous about them, isn't there. Which is where L’Eau de Chloé comes in; from its frozen lemonade top note into its rosewater heart and down to its cooling, mossy base, it's an improvement on the previous Chloe edition* and a scent which instantly puts a smile on my face, even if it doesn't really mesh with my style, having no dark nor serious intentions.

Nikiforos Lytras, The Kiss

The recent "madness" for Eaux
Perfumer Michel Almairac was commissioned with a citrusy built on "clean" rose with a dewy character. Eaux are big as a variant in existing fragrance lines lately, rather than just a rehash of the citrus-herbal Eau de Cologne recipe, with predictably good results; especially at Dior (who had it all with their classic Eau Fraîche) with their Miss Dior Chérie L'Eau and J'Adore L'Eau Florale. Other contestants in this revamped "eau" game include Chanel Cristalle Eau Verte, Chanel Chance Eau Tendre and Chance Eau Fraîche, the three Ô de Lancôme, Eau de Shalimar by Guerlain (a different attitude as this is a complex citrusy oriental rather than just a citrusy, fresh, uncomplicated splash on), Hermes Eau de Gentiane Blanche and Eau de Pamplemousse Rose, even Serge Lutens with his L'Eau Froide and the previous L'Eau de Serge Lutens. It's a good alternative for warm weather wearing when you live in a hot climate.

Perfume impressions and formula structuring
Almairac used the transparent, luminous and at the same time lightly sweet and delectable natural note of rosewater (a distillate from rose petals) in L’Eau de Chloé to counterpoint and at the same time accent, via the common elements, the tart lemonade opening and the lemony magnolia blossom in the core. What was less easy to accomplish was how to stabilize it into a formula that would retain structure. The perfumer opted thus for a mossy-musky base accord which simmers with the angular, lightly bitter beauty of chypre via patchouli and woody ambers (ambrox). The fragrance belongs in the genre of Versace Versence or a modernised/watered down Coriandre by Jean Couturier.
The effect is that of a fizzy, sparkling, tingling the nose grapefruit and citron opening, vivid, spicy and refreshing at the same time with the gusto of carbonated fizz drinks bursting on your face which is prolonged into the proceedings. The peppery, crisp freshness evolves into the bold rosy heart of L’Eau de Chloé, balanced between powdery-minty and retro; non obtrusive for casual day wear, but with enough presence to uphold itself throughout a romantic afternoon. It's because of this that the fragrance projects more as a feminine than a citrusy unisex, which might create its own little problems (i.e. usually unisex citruses are the best). The mossy, patchouli-trailing with a warm, inviting "clean musk" vibe about it is discreet and rather short-lived (as is natural for the genre) and I would definitely prefer it to be darker and more sinister, but the fragrance overall serves as a reminder that small miracles are what we're  thankful for these days.

Advertising images
L’Eau de Chloé utilizes the familiar girl in a field of grass imagery in its advertising, first used by Balmain's classic Vent Vert (which did have something very meadow-like about it!) and perpetuated into recent releases; I'm reminding of Daisy Eau So Fresh by Marc Jacobs for instance. The young sprite is mythologically loaded, reminiscent of nubile teenagers in Greek classical myth deflowered by philandering gods, and it remains a feminist concern thanks to its sheer helplessness (who will hear your cries in the distance?). But perhaps we're injecting too much into it. Perhaps just rolling on a field on a warm, sunny day is a joy into itself and in this land of perfume fantasy all the big bad wolves are programmatically kept at bay or exitinguished with a squirt of a well chosen perfume sprayer. It's a thought...

Notes for L'Eau de Chloé: lemon, peach, violet, natural rosewater, patchouli, cedar.
Available from major department stores.

*NB: I'm hereby referring to the screechy laundry-detergent like Chloé Eau de Parfum by Chloé (2008) and not the excellent, violet-tinged nostalgic powdery fragrance Love, Chloé.

Model: Camille Rowe-Pourcheresse. Shot by Mario Sorenti, Music: Lissy Trullie / Ready for the floor.
More at www.chloe.com/eau

Painting by Greek painter Nikiforos Lytras, The Kiss.

Etat Libre d'Orange Bijou Romantique: fragrance review

~You let yourself be impressed by that sailor with the pierced ear?

~But no...

Caïn to Pandora Groosvenore (nicknamed "bijou romantique" by said sailor) in Hugo Pratt's La ballata del mare salato/ La ballade de la mer salee comics book starring Corto Maltese

The French have a saying "le parfum bijou" denoting both the literal sense (a perfume carried in a jewel receptible) and the metaphorical (a fragrance that adorns and highlights the beauty of its wearer). Bijou Romantique by Etat Libre d'Orange comes with little of the irreverence that the French brand exhibits and plenty of the beautyfying factor. I'd call it féérique myself (fairy-like, fairy-made). It's delicate, lovely, and oddly savoury, breaking the impression we have of oriental gourmand (i.e. dessert-like) perfumes into tiny slivers, much as it was done with Etat Libre d'Orange Fils de Dieu, their other new release for 2012. Bijou Romantique stops just short of being "skanky" or "dirty" (in a good way) -see Amaranthine by Penhaligon's- offering a deceptive "bombshell" fragrance for those women (and the adventurous men sharing it) who demand that their perfume acts as morale boosting for those approaching them. An appeal as timeless as the beauty whose virtue has a "price far above rubies", a Scriptures phrase that serves as the motto for the company.

Composed by perfumer Mathilde Bijaoui it's no wonder; it was Mathilde who signed the critically acclaimed Tilda Swinton Like This, you see, and she's also the composer of that controversial ~but eminently interesting~ accord of fig and caviar in Thierry Mugler's Womanity.

With Bijou Romantique Bijaoui offers a nuanced composition that hovers on the precipice between savory and sweet, rich and satisfying, exploiting the subtle chocolate-like facets of iris and vetiver and contrasting them with the natural creaminess of vanilla and benzoin resin with a fresh lemony top note. Laboratoire Mane’s captive Evee ® molecule bridges the gap between the sweet elements and the soft rosy spices. As Bijaoui explains herself in an interview on French TV: "My luck at Mane is to have an important team of researchers constantly developing new molecules and finalizing new extraction techniques. Thanks to their extraction technique called "Jungle Essence" we perfumers at Mane, were able to create a new olfactory family, the sweet/savory family. The Jungle Essence technology allowed us to extract scents never extracted before: fig and caviar. Jungle Essence offers new possibilities, new scents, using ingredients non extractable through conventional methods. (nuts, coconut…) The Jungle Essence process produces a natural extract. This extract can be directly used in perfumed or flavoured compositions."
In Bijou Romantique the proceedings take on a darker, more complex character in the main plot, thanks to the inclusion of a musky-woody background where the sweet-liquorice note of patchouli is clearly detectable. Patchouli is of course a beloved niche fragrances element, coming back from the hippie 1960s with a vengeance, but in contrast to Nobril Immense by the same company where it's too potent, too sweet, here it's nuanced with the protagonist: the ripe fruity note of tropical ylang ylang and the soft rosy nuance of pink pepper.

Tender, inviting and multi-facetted, Bijou Romantique is like a nostalgic cameo pinned on the edge of a low neckline. Farewell Pandora!

The transparency and cozy gourmand factor of Bijou Romantique is sure to entice those who liked The Different Company's Oriental Lounge or Fendi's discontinued (but marvellous) Theorema and might be of interest for anyone exploring niche gourmand perfumes (such as the Micallef line Les Notes Gourmandes or those by Les Néréides)

Notes for Etat Libre d'Orange Bijou Romantique:

Bergamot, Italian lemon, pink pepper essence, ylang-ylang, clary sage, Tuscan iris, Jungle Essence coconut, Haitian vetiver, patchouli, benzoin, vanilla.

Bijour Romantique is available as Eau de Parfum 50ml at the official site, Henri Bendels, MiN New York and online from Luckyscent and Les Santeurs.

pic via http://ilmioblog-lu.blogspot.com and http://avozportalegrense.blogspot.com

Burberry Body: fragrance review

A shame the appearence is betraying a fragrance so much. The gorgeous electric-car charger looking bottle (or a crystal baton, if you prefer) encased in a leather pouch in beige tones is far sleeker and classier than the soapy, synthetic and rather dull floral musk hiding inside the container. The name and commercial hinted at some tryst conducted in the aftermath of a spring shower that necessitated the wearing of a Burberry trenchcoat. The fragrance however is akin to sprikling yourself in sudsy water rather than bodily fluids...

Burberry Body is rather potent, warm and woody, taking in mind the constraints of both the soapy and musky floral genre (which usually tend to lean towards coolish), but doesn't really ever become a true "skin scent" in the sense of mimicking anyone's warm, living skin -or the scent equivalent of invoking the aftermath of intimate action between lovers. It's death by a hundred little guest soaps with rosy wrapping!The chunk of Cashmeran in the base doesn't aid much.

Nor is the composition a gorgeous true floral musk the way Narciso Rodriguez Narciso For Her and its many different fragrance versions are or Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker. The effect in Body remains at all times a bit aloof, without much of the promised absinthe or the powderiness of iris compositions, the soap a little detached from the nooks and cranes it's supposed to lather up to. The sudsy floral part of Penhaligon's Castile is there, but whereas in Castile this aided the radiance of what is essentially a programmatically "clean" fragrance with lots of orange blossom, in Burberry Body we have a similar phenomenon as in the newer version of Chloé; the aliphatic aldehydes project sharp, loud and fatty, laundry-detergent reminiscent, with a hint of lactonic peach and vanilla under the rosiness, and tend to remind you of a chemical soup rather than the ouverture to some floral symphony of yore. Furthermore Body is absolutely linear and guaranteed not to offend anyone; usually that's a seal of lack of character.

I realise that "clean" and "shower fresh" are loaded and important terms in fragrance marketing, that one has to pick an unobtrusive scent for the office at times and there is a huge segment of the population who is after the perfect "just out of the shower" fragrance anyway, but I'm afraid that this is not it; their worthy goal is better served elsewhere. [Explore our Soapy Fragrances and Musky Fragrances articles linked, if you like].

Notes for Burberry Body: absinthe, peach, freesia, rose absolute, iris, sandalwood, woody cashmeran, musk, vanilla, amber.

Photo: Andrian Wilson, I need you more than you need me. 

The winner of the draw...

...for the Hedera Helix green chypre by Roxana is KKinDK. Congratulations and please email me using Contact with your shipping data so I can have this out in the mail for you soon!

Thanks everyone for the enthusiastic participation and till the next one (very soon!).

Etat Libre d'Orange Malaise of the 1970s fragrance: Change of Name, Change of Pace

Etat Libre d'Orange changes the name of their Sex Pistols fragrance (a 2010 release for French Sephora) into a more encompassing name and concept ~and please note this might be one of many to follow. The official site of the niche French brand even declares: The Sex Pistols are dead, long live Malaise (hope not, in the literal sense of the word!). "We thought it was hilarious to name a juice after a band whose stars were called Rotten and Vicious so we could sell it in a cosmetics emporium. But that’s not necessarily the whole story. In fact, we have many more in stock.
Because what is perfume, when you think of it? A potion we use to reinvent our memories. The matrix of as many stories as there are ways of getting into the scent. So what if we drew the consequence of this story-generating mechanism by dressing up the same perfume with as many names, characters and plotlines as it inspires? What if we gave it avatars? So we’re taking ‘Sex Pistols’ and giving it a new name that fits these troubled times…"

But let's see how the presentation changed:

Relive the anarchy of Britain in the punk age with the Etat Libre d'Orange Malaise of the 1970s Eau de Parfum.
Inspired by a wealth of seventies pop culture references, from Star Wars to The Stranglers, Malaise of the 1970s captures the resistant and tumultuous spirit of the times. A metallic juice that resonates like the twang of a guitar string, its sharpness reminiscent of safety pins fastened to tartan. A distillation of rebellion, music and raw emotion.
This scent from Etat Libre d'Orange blends the piquancy of black pepper and electric aldehydes with the headiness of patchouli and leather. Like an act of resistance, you cannot keep it out of your body any more than you can stop breathing. Blast off the last wafts of patchouli tailing after the Summer of Love. Growl out "No More Heroes". Take off to a galaxy far, far away. and indulge in the unique malaise of the 1970s.

Notes for Malaise of the 1970s: Citrus, Black Pepper, Amber, Prune, Electric Aldehydes, Heliotrope, Patchouli, Orcanox, Leather.

One note: Trainspotting came out in 1996. (Even if McGregor became Obi-Wan later on). Just so you know. 

Watch a clip on the brand and its manifesto/aims by president Etienne de Swardt.

Scents of Time to Close Down in April

"In the perfume game we were up against some huge businesses such as Dior. It was like David versus Goliath except this time Goliath won. The stone in my slingshot wasn't big enough. We started strongly and it seemed to be going well but people don't have a lot of spare money for a luxury like us."

Thus says David Pybus, of Scents of Time, a historian gone the way of perfume recreation. The info and quotes come from an article on This is Kent.

After collaborating with Dragon's Den, Pybus has created five scents including Nenufar which was Cleopatra's perfume of choice, and Ankh which was inspired by the incense found in the tomb of Tutankhamen. He currently has 500 bottles left of Night Star, the Titanic scent which we had reported on these very pages, now reduced from £40 to £6.[NB. This is a local-only valid offer, as there can be no international orders arrangements at this point]

For more details please visit http://www.scentsoftime.co.uk

If you want to try out the Scents of Time fragrances there are samples (and bottles) circulating from UK locations on Ebay.

EVAmour: new fragrance

"My first memory of fragrance is my mom," she said. "She wore Charlie but I actually never wore perfume. I would always sneeze when I smelled it and just never found one that worked for me, which is why I wanted to develop my own." And while her debut fragrance was meant to evoke a clean, just out of the shower feeling, this one is "seductive, playful, sexy, and mature," Longoria explains, adding that when she starts making a scent (it takes about a year), she works with a perfume house and tells them what she wants the end result to be—emotionally.
"The perfumers would say, 'oh you mean a spicy musk.' But that's Chinese to me so they would send me samples, we'd go back and forth—but in both cases, I ended up going with the first try!"

Thus goes the article on Allure, chronicling the route that Eva Longoria would take to "co-create" her latest fragrance, called EVAmour. The second celebrity perfume by the "Desperate Housewives" star features notes of bergamot, apple, red currant, vanilla, amber, and musk.

Chanel Perfume Rumour: Les Exclusifs 1932

drawing of Chanel by Jean Cocteau  (1932)

Chanel have just trademarked the "name" "1932" for their perfumery branch. The year coincides with the introduction of Ivoire de Chanel, one of the unknown Chanel fragrances that came out in that eventful decade. The year also coincides with the introduction of Chanel jewelry, focusing on diamond rings and brooches that still retain their delightful art Deco character.

Is, after Chanel Jersey and Chanel Beige, Ivoire to be the next Chanel Les Exclusifs perfume? I think it should be. This could be a re-issue of the unfairly unsung vintage Ivoire, but in all probability it should be a totally modern composition that merely utilizes the retro connotation to instill a sense of patrimonie into the proceedings. Taking into account that the latest Chanel parfums have not strung by heartstrings, I remain sceptical, but would like to sample nevertheless.

Of course they might be trademarking things with an eye into stopping the competition. Coco Noir still hasn't been publicized...

EDIT TO ADD:  Sashimi87 has posted an actual photo of the bottle of Chanel Les Exclusifs 1932 on Instagram, as per my reader Wit Siamaise. It's too good not to show to you  (plus it corroborates my info) and I hope she's fine with it appearing here.

top pic via rarevintage.blogspot.com

Etat Libre d'Orange Fils de Dieu du Riz et des Agrumes: fragrance review

Despite allusions to Messianic status and references to a Far Asian dish full of endemic ingredients, Fils de Dieu is neither incense-based, nor is it foody in smell. Instead it shoots clarity, modernity and prized complexity into an age-old structure, the classic oriental perfume, making it shed its abundant sunshine like a golden ray shimmering onto yellow butterflies flying over the spring blooms in the balcony. Forget the controversy factor and scare-the-horses impact of the niche brand's infamous Sécrétions Magnifiques. This one is instantly (and easily) likeable stuff you will get serious milleage off; which I'd think defeats the brand's "perfume is dead, long live perfume" manifesto, but there you have it: they need to make wearable stuff too I suppose. Fils de Dieu is among their most approachable. 

Biko rice cupcakes from the Philippines

Etat Libre d'Orange describes its latest fragrance Fils de Dieu du Riz et des Agrumes (its full name meaning “Son of God of rice and citrus”) as "the one who brings on the light, the sunshine", drawing from the Philippines lore (its alternative name was Philippine Houseboy). Perfumer Ralf Schwieger (of Lipstick Rose fame), set to task by the brand's head Etienne De Swardt, took the basic structure of a classical oriental built on tart citrus and creamy ambery and vanillic notes (see Shalimar or even better the more legible Shalimar Light) and renovated it into a modern creation that registers as totally urban, totally effarvescent, totally wearable. But that's not to mean it wears thin or minimalist: the projection of the mouilletes on my library is reaching me, diffusing with gusto, in the bedroom and the sillage trailing off my chiffon blouse is enough to entice the neighbour meeting me round the corner to ask what I am wearing. "It's Fils de Dieu", I reply rather self-consious. "Oooh, sounds like one of those delectable things only you carry around here!" she replies with a resigned sigh. I oblige and write the name down along with intrstructions on where to get some.

That is the effect the new Etat Libre d'Orange fragrance has: uplifting, inviting, alluring, radiant. Despite the lack of heft its vanilla background has (forget thick, "burnt" too foody vanillas, this is nuanced and sophisticated), the tenacity of musk, the crushed flower petals and the profusion of leathery castoreum (reminiscent of a FarEast massage parlour) accounts for a composition that will get you noticed throughout the day. If the equally inviting Etat Libre d'Orange Archives 69 and their universally liked Like This is any indication, the French brand is following a certain kind of compositions quite purposefully lately. 

But the interesting thing about Fils de Dieu is the masterful playing of contrast and the injection of herbal into the classic oriental motif: the ginger (in itself having a citrusy facet) pairs with other hesperidic notes, notably sharp lime, starting with bracing, mouthwatering freshness (not unlike the bergamot-rich head note of Cologne Bigarade in the F.Malle line). There's the subtle and brief fennel-like note of shiso and then the perfume swims confidently into plush comfort through the milky-rice note of coconut-milk steamed rice. The zen-like effect of savoury rice cooking on the stove was perhaps most famously explored by niche brand Ormonde Jayne in Champaca: there's something home-bound and soothing about that smell and Linda Pilkington had revealed to me in an interview that she had envisioned it inspired by her Chinese neighbours cooking rice at their appartment every evening. Etat Libre had injected a rice note as a hint in their previous Putain de Palaces. But in Fils de Dieu the progression melds effortlessly into an intimate, gourmand aftertaste with lots of coriander (orange-saffron like, almost), a metallic nuance and suede, sultry leathery notes which retain the fragrance deliciously on both skin and cloth.

Etat Libre d'Orange Fils de Dieu, du Riz et des Agrumes is available from Henri Bendels, MiN New York and online from Luckyscent and Les Senteurs.


Notes for Etat Libre d'Orange Fils de Dieu:
Ginger, coriander leaves, lime, shiso, bergamot, Jungle Essence coconut, rice note, Jungle Essence cardamom, jasmine, cinnamon, French May rose, tonka bean, vetiver, musk, amber, leather, castoreum.

photo via cupcakeproject.com

Guerlain Jardins de Bagatelle (1983): Fragrance Review

History has a way of repeating itself: hard to believe nowadays but less has not always been more.

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

Sometimes only more is more. The French Rococo period, for one, and so was the 80s. It is hardly surprising then that Jardins de Bagatelle, Guerlain’s tribute to the grand frivolity of a French imperial pursuit, was introduced in 1983.

Nearly thirty years later I have seldom heard the tale told in its entirety. Perhaps because of the typical Guerlain complexity in its inspiration? Or perhaps its somewhat awkward placement within the Guerlain archive, tucked between the fabled Chamade (1969), Parure (1975), Nahéma (1979) and Samsara (1989)? Either case the story is far too fascinating to be left ignored.

Bagatelle: A Brief Trifle History

Jean-Paul Guerlain’s inspiration came from the garden found within the Château de Bagatelle, an eighteenth-century gem tucked within the Bois de Boulogne, in the XVIe arrondissement of Paris . Don’t be fooled by the name Bagatelle: this estate is not name after an illustrious personality; quite the opposite. In fact, it is a term most frivolous in nature, from the Italian bagattella and reserved to describe a thing of little importance, a mere trifle!

Everything started with a bet: In 1775 the the Comte d'Artois purchased the property with the intention of an overhaul; his sister-in-law, Marie Antoinette, perhaps out of sheer boredom, wagered that the new château could not possibly be completed within one hundred days. She was proven wrong: the Comte engaged the neoclassical architect François-Joseph Bélanger to design and had the whole thing all to himself in mere sixty-three days. That’s not to say that the architect skimped on luxury in order to hasten the completion—in true Rococo fashion the garden immediately surrounding the Château de Bagatelle is famously redolent of heady florals, as attested by the rambling roses blooming in profusion within the opening photo. And that’s a mere corner of the château.

But there’s more: according to MONSIEURGUERLAIN the blog, the venerable house further revealed that the rhythm of the fragrance was inspired by Goyescas, written by Spanish composer Enrique Granados. Now without knowing which of the six Guerlain was referring to I shall persent my personal favorite, and the most famous of them all, is “Quejas, o la maja y el ruiseñor” (The Maiden and the Nightingale), played here by Jorge Luis Prats.

Now in this context the second usage of the word ‘bagatelle’ is also utilized, describing here a short piece of music, typically for the piano, and usually of a light, mellow character. The name here serves as a reference to the innocent character of the piece (not necessarily, of course, the lack of technical and artistic demands of the music, as many piano students fall out one way for another upon learning the music).

Jardins de Bagatelle: The Guerlain Twist

Given its heady égeries one shouldn’t expect less from Jardins de Bagatelle, referred by some as the scent of the whole garden bottled! In fact it is precisely this fact that yours truly prefers the eau de toilette incarnation, and then only in light application!

The exercise in diffusion starts with violet and classic aldehydes, finessed by citruses such as lemon and bergamot. Then lo and behold, true to the Goyescas style, a barrage of white florals flies across: gardenia, rose, orange blossom, tuberose, magnolia, ylang ylang, orchid, lily-of-the-valley, narcissus, not to mention tuberose, the queen of narcotic floral (and one of Marie Antoinette’s favourites). At the hands of a perfumer with less calibre all this would surely spell disaster, yet the suppleness of the Guerlinade accord really pulls through and keeps the whole flock flying in formation, especially with the help of base notes consisting of cedarwood, musk, patchouli, tonka bean and vetiver. Translation: never meant for the faint hearted. Now some valued Guerlain clients are not used to such blunt development, though overall I’m not too troubled by it once dialing down the overall volume; some might turn blue with a bombastic woodsy-floral from the 80s, but personally the sillage is, in my humble opinion, enjoyable at an extremely deft hand. Testament to its prowess I have never seen a parfum edition for Jardins de Bagatelle; the eau de parfum was always meant to be the most concentrated version of this pillar.

Note: Personally I never had any problem with the quality of this eau de toilette, and I’ve read favourable review even after the supposed reformulation. Then again if you have recent encounters please do chime in!

As for the bottle designer Robert Granai interpreted the shoulder emphasis of the 80s with savoir-faire by folding the motif into classic Guerlain bottle aesthetics. Honestly it’s one of my favourite bottles from Guerlain: clean, to the point, but essentially romantic at heart.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Guerlain series

Photos, from top: Jardins de Bagatelle rose trellis from Paris the blog; Château de Bagatelle from Wiki; portrait of Comte d'Artois from Wiki; portrait of Marie Antoinette from Wiki; Guerlain Jardins de Bagatelle advertisement from the 80s, via CouleurParfum.

Another Serge Lutens Export Fragrance becomes Paris Exclusive?

It was all too short ago that we had announced first on these pages that an export perfume circulating at select Lutens stockists in Europe as well as the US had become a Paris exclusive: it was Rousse.  But that was not all...

Now we learn officially that another one from the exports reverts to the alma mater at Palais Royal, to be encased in the bell jars: This time it's Louve. The online Lutens boutique still stocks it in the spray bottles, so it might stay on both catalogues. (like Ambre Sultan and Fleurs d'Oranger)

The winner of the draw...

...for the Tauer sample is Alica. Congratulations and please email me using Contact with your shipping data so I can have this in the mail for you right away.

Thanks everyone for the enthusiastic participation and till the next one!

Roxana Illuminated Perfume Hedera Helix: fragrance review & draw

"I have to say that green is the only color I understand. I can really frame it; I know how to work with it. I see other colors, and they feel alien. I cannot give you a rational explanation why."

This is what Alfonso Cuarón, film director and creator of the 1998 intelligently modernised remake of Dickens's Great Expectations has to say on his use of colour. The film is strategically orchestrated in green hues, from Finn's shirt to Estella's DKNY wardrobe to the artwork hanging on the Florida house walls and tiny details on Chris Cooper's rented tuxedo... He could have been channeling Roxana Villa, artisanal all naturals perfumer who excels in her green blends. Imagine how I felt when a green sample was awaiting for me in the mail!

One of the things that always makes a difference with artisanal perfumers is presentation: Beyond the superficial, there's just something adorable about being presented with a nicely put together sample with a handwritten note. With Roxana Villa this gets elevated into an art form. Not only is her whole site and shop gorgeously art directed thanks to her unerring eye and her illustrator husband Greg Spalenka, she takes the time to prepare lovely ribbon-tied little packages with alchemical symbols and wax-stamps embossed with bees...a symbol which has inspired her to even tend her own hives! With an introduction like that, one is braced for the best.

Indeed Hedera Helix, Latin for English ivy, does not disappoint. A green chypre the way that genre should be, deep, emerald green, graceful, with delicious top accents of citrusy notes (it smells like a mix of pink grapefruit and orange blossoms to me) and crushed leaves (such as rhododendron, violet leaf absolute with its metallic accent and peach leaf absolute, softer and rounder), as well as that classic floral heart (rose-jasmine-pelargonium) which we tend to associate with elegant, classy, old-school perfumes that smell like perfume and not aromatherapy alloys. A warm combination of what smells like oakmoss and honeycomb is underpinning the perfume.

The viscous, inky liquid looks brownish-green in its tiny vial and upon unscrewing sheds a tentacle of climbing greeness in the room, expanding and radiating beautifully. The fragrance of Hedera Helix is nuanced, multi-layered, creating tension and a questioning adventure as each layer peels off and it's fit for "greens" lovers as well as those hankering after proper floral chypres with a grassy-leafy direction. Ivy is one of the sacred trees of the Celtic forest and part of the Tree Ogham which makes it a symbolic choice for the perfumer who dabbles in the apocrypha of the Celtic tradition. Perfect to usher in spring, as it conjures ivy twigs shining bright under the sun's rays while the insides are cool & crisp and home to more mysterious creatures.

It's indeed like a kiss on the water....

Hedera Helix began its life as a special commision in 2007, but it soon took wings and became more widely available. It's too lovely not to be shared among those of us who love greens.

One solid perfume for a lucky reader! Please leave a comment to enter the draw.
Draw remains open till Friday 23rd. 

Samples are available on Roxana's Etsy store.
In the interests of disclosure, I was sent a sample directly from the perfumer.

Tableau de Parfums Snapshots "Dark Passage" by A.Tauer: fragrance review & draw

"It was a hot afternoon, and I can still remember the smell of honeysuckle all along that street. How could I have known that murder can sometimes smell like honeysuckle?"
~Double Indemnity, 1944


Dark Passage is a limited edition, g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s perfume by Swiss genius Andy Tauer which doesn't smell of honeysuckle. It does smell of film noirs and danger though like there's no tomorrow. Last time Tauer issued a limited edition it was the legendary Orris. If this hasn't had your ears perked up, I don't know what will. Perhaps that Dark Passage is a dark alleyway of a scent, full of spilled booze, contraband and dangerous women with luring tentacles the size of Barbara Stanwyck's evil quota in classics of the genre. I can only say I was very honoured to be among the extremely few people who got to try this amazing perfume.

Dark Passage is also rebellious; as Tauer says about the creation: "For me this first SNAPSHOT fragrance comes as a relief. Finally, I can do a fragrance that does not need to go through any distribution and sales machinery and EU registration and other investments. It is just here. If you are interested in it: Get it."

Dark Passage is perched on the darkness of natural, dirty, raw patchouli, a note poised between the woody and the camphorous. "Patchouli coeur which means”heart of Patchouli” is basically a patchouli that is rich in patchoulol. I am using a quality that is 66% patchoulol. I use it together with “standard” patchouli.[...]Patchouli coeur is even a bit more on the light, airy, musky side. Yes, there is a musky aspect that is stronger and underlined in Patchouli Coeur. I got mine from Ventos, but the description on Robertet‘s internet site is wonderful. It is in French and thus even more mysterious: “Odeur : le cœur de patchouli présente un aspect olfactif très propre, ambré, terreux, patchoulol, oriental.” Thus, it smells clean, of ambergris, earth, patchoulol, and oriental", clarifies Tauer.

But that's not all, nor is it the whole truth: Dark Passage is a perfume full of patchouli and you can't but like that material to fully enjoy it, but there are other elements to entice and to sway the character. Labdanum I believe, coupled with [no, I was wrong] beeswax musky-animalic notes, giving a sweet, intimate, almost suede aspect; a very prominent cocoa note from natural cocoa absolute, not wrapped in gourmand wiles but rendered bitter, noir, dirty, tobacco-rich...There's also a bit of birch tar, which aids both the bitterness of the chocolate facet and the leathery note, as well as a snippet of vetiver, rendered musty and as black as the night on the swamp where someone is dumping bodies on the hush.


Most importantly: Dark Passage is not bound by IFRA rules!

If you want to compare with something you might have tested already, I can only think of Ayala Moriel's Film Noir, which is another dirty, deeply dark heartless patchouli; that one isn't as cocoa-rich, though as this one.

Packaged in 7ml enamel atomizers and available in limited edition quanities, the Tableau Snapshots are smaller in scale and with a different scope. You can find all about the inspiration, the project (part of Kickstarter to promote the new Brian Pera film "Only Child") and where to buy on this post.

HURRY!! Dark Passage is only available till March 29th!

One small sample available for one lucky reader!
Draw is now closed, winner announced on Home page.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The power of "noir" in perfumes (with a film noir titles game included!)

In the interests of disclosure, I was sent a sample by the perfumer. 

What Perfumes Does Karl Lagerfeld Keep in His Bathroom?

Peeking into celebrities' private lives has been the collective, flesh-eating story of our modern urban lives; there's simply no way of avoiding it and we've been conditioned to expect our daily dosage of carnage. To that end Karl Lagerfeld exposes his bathroom himself to Harper's Bazaar, photographic his Parisian apartment and his array of skincare and haircare (you'd expect the latter) comprising Creme de la Mer, Elseve, Kerastase, Dior, Shu Uemura and Klorane Dry Shampoo (an intriguing revelation is that he uses it to make his hair look whiter than it is!). But what fragrances does he keep beside the newspapers?

click to enlarge (via harper's bazaar)

On his counter I can spot two Serge Lutens bottles (my money is on either Sa Majeste la Rose, Douce Amere or Arabie), Guerlain Shalimar Parfum Initial as well as the classic Shalimar in the black limited edition bottle "Black Mystery", Balenciaga Paris, Chanel Les Exclusifs Eau de Cologne (this was made to his exigency, so it makes sense to always stock it and use it) or even more possibly No.22 since the name is short on the bottle, as well as Guerlain Cologne du 68 or alternatively his own Karleidoscope which shares a similar looking bottle. I also spot a silvery can of Jean Paul Gaultier fragrance on an upper shelf.

What? No KL fragrances?

Armani Prive Cuir Noir: new fragrance

From Cordoba in Spain to the foothills of the Atlas Mountains...Leather tanning is an ancient and refined art and the fragrances which utilize this slightly primitive, animalic scent of the hides have been the fascinating milieu of some of the most sophisticated perfumes in the history of perfume-making. The wild scent of tallow teams with the smouldering, tarry aroma of black birch and the powerful accord of Russian hide gives way to the smoother notes that evoke the matte beige lightness and softness of suede. Giorgio Armani, no stranger to this universe of scent, is supplementing his exclusive collection with one such fragrance, giving an opulent interpretation for modern tastes.

Armani Privé is issuing a new fragrance in the collective opus of sumptuous wooden bottles, set to circulate more widely this spring: Cuir Noir.

Part of the even more opulent collection Les Mille et Une Nuits within the Armani Privé brand, the new Cuir Noir is an olfactory tale that pays homage to the orient and the eternal fascination with the East. This new oriental adventure, just like Oud Royal, Rose d'Arabie and Ambre Orient before it, depicts the perfumes and enchanted atmosphere of the Arabian Nights. The fragrances form a quartet of dreams, inspired by blue desert nights and whispers seeping through ornate arabesque grilles.

The perfumer has tamed the exotic nature of noble and rebellious ingredients, sweetened the sharpness of "gold and spice" and softened smoke and resin. For Cuir Noir the perfumer envisioned a gradiation of ambery shades, from golden blond through reddish copper to deep brown; a soft suede texture; and the velvety creaminess of a liquer.
To accomplish that, the opening was constructed to immediately smell of rose essence paired with Australian sandalwood, set off by a hint of coriander and nutmeg. The progression is more textured with leathery and smoky notes of gaiac and oud alternating. The base is sweet with Tahitian vanilla absolute and benzoin balm.

The new Cuir Noir will be available at select stockists who carry the Armani Privé line.

Guerlain Chamade (1969) Fragrance Review Series Part 6: Afterward & Thoughts on Fragrance Criticism

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

Tout entière

Le Démon, dans ma chambre haute,
Ce matin est venu me voir,
Et, tâchant à me prendre en faute,
Me dit: «Je voudrais bien savoir,

Parmi toutes les belles choses
Dont est fait son enchantement,
Parmi les objets noirs ou roses
Qui composent son corps charmant,

Quel est le plus doux.» - O mon âme!
Tu répondis à l'Abhorré:
«Puisqu'en Elle tout est dictame,
Rien ne peut être préféré.

Lorsque tout me ravit, j'ignore
Si quelque chose me séduit.
Elle éblouit comme l'Aurore
Et console comme la Nuit;

Et l'harmonie est trop exquise,
Qui gouverne tout son beau corps,
Pour que l'impuissante analyse
En note les nombreux accords.

O métamorphose mystique
De tous mes sens fondus en un!
Son haleine fait la musique,
Comme sa voix fait le parfum!»
—Charles Baudelaire


All Together

This morning in my attic high
The Demon came to visit me,
And seeking faults in my reply,
He said: "I would inquire of thee,

"Of all the beauties which compose
Her charming body's potent spell,
Of all the objects black and rose
Which make the thing you love so well,

"Which is the sweetest?" O my soul!
Thou didst rejoin: "How tell of parts,
When all I know is that the whole
Works magic in my heart of hearts?

"Where all is fair, how should I say
What single grace is my delight?
She shines on me like break of day
And she consoles me as the night.

"There flows through all her perfect frame
A harmony too exquisite
That weak analysis should name
The numberless accords of it.

"O mystic metamorphosis!
My separate senses all are blent;
Within her breath soft music is,
And in her voice a subtle scent!"
—Charles Baudelaire, translation from ReadBooksOnline.net



Let me tell you when I first promised our Elena to review Guerlain Chamade for this blog: December 11, 2008. In fact I still have a copy of my request:

"Just wondering if I may review Chamade and/or Samsara. I've been accumulating material for those two and they are going to be interesting. (You would be surprised by how the Buddhist definition of samsara, considered the root of pain and suffering, is worlds away from what Guerlain is trying to portray.) As for Chamade I may even upload the actual drum beat! (Plus the pivotal moment of the movie.)"

Well, writing a review for Samsara was not that labour intensive. Yet as all of you could tell it took me more than three years to get this review done, and never would I imagine turning the piece into a multi-part marathon.

Why? As some of you might have noticed I have chosen to blog less and less over the last couple of years. Started out as a mild lethargy and gradually morphed into a full-blown hiatus at one point. Have I been busy? Yes and no: I’ve always managed to find time to blog before, even a miniature piece or two.

So what happened? I started to see a huge chasm between the artisanal and the commercial in this business, the art really not lining up with the money. Don’t get me wrong: as a business graduate I know very well that perfumery houses are here for its survival. Yet the interesting side effects of the 2008 financial meltdown are still unfolding among perfumery brands: all major players, for one, are more lean and determined to get a piece of the action. Translation: the bottom line now really counts, more than ever.

To be perfectly honest I’m all for marketing research, and pushing a product nobody wants to buy, at least to me, is the greatest sin on earth; with this being said I can only stand mindless renditions of Marc Jacobs Daisy for so long.

Kindly allow me to reiterate: I’m not against commercial viability; I’m just against mindless plagiarism. I’m not against approachability; I just don’t like philistines all that much. I don’t even mind cutting costs on material and development; I just won’t stand thoughtless slash across the board because nobody was “supposed” to know when materials are downgraded.

I prefer, in all my sincerity, modernization—but I want to do it with standards. If it comes at the costs of cutting excessive corners than, well, what good are brand managers, let alone executives?

Of course, I know there are still passionate, conscientious people working in this industry, working very hard to make a difference. And my thoughts are not in any shape or form trying to disparage the true artists. (Please don’t ask me to name names of this or that—because I simply won’t.) But I decided to listen more since then. And to really start thinking about what makes the legends of the past so great in the first place: after all, those who cannot learn from the past are doomed to repeat the failures.

That’s my ultimate purpose for reviewing Chamade, articulating what made it great in the first place. Perhaps the ideas could be transported and lifted for generations to come, even though the exact ideas might not be in vogue any more.


To me the ultimate reason behind the success of Chamade is quite simple. People cared. Say what you will about French perfumery, its politics: people took the time to think about the genuine dialogue between the product and the culture, how the time affects its culture before coming up with a genuine proposal. Making genuine products with perfectly valid constructs. Again, I know not every perfumer can be Ernest Beaux, nor all fragrance account managers have the immaculate tastes of Coco Chanel, but if the latest release is a very simple xerox of the latest marketing reports (bottled, of course) with zero imagination attached then, again, what good are people arming diplomas from top-notch MBA programs?

Thus by the same token I am still stand behind my favourable review of Hermes Hermessence Iris Ukiyoe (2010). Or Chanel No. 5 Eau Première (2008). And honestly I am even that tough of a fragrance critic—but showing one’s work is a pre-requisite in my book. Kindly allow me to repeat: showing one’s work is a pre-requisite.

Still, back to my story: I started writing this series on Tuesday, March 6—

It's going to be the longest review I've ever written! I'm at the bottom of third page and haven't fully covered the cultural background.

That’s when Elena’s common sense kicked in: otherwise all of you would have to read this series in one, extra-lengthy post. Five parts in one sitting.

(At this point I have to give credit where credit is due: without Elena’s tireless patience in the first place not a single word of this series would come to life, let alone her often thankless edits of my unruly writing. She’s really a trooper.)



The series, once get going, proved to be a quick waltz. Part 1 through 4 was submitted within one day. Part 5 came a day later because I couldn’t find the right artwork: luckily Ms. Danielle Jarvis showed me her piece; otherwise the readers would have to stare at nothing but words upon reading the blooming epilogue.

Before I go I want to share with all of you one more thing about my thoughts on Chamade. I’ve always deduced that Rachmaninoff’s Symphony No. 2 in E Minor, Op. 27, its third movement Adagio, is a musical approximation of its ideas, the romantic mad aches. Try testing the fragrance while listening to the performance below: there’s nothing on earth quite like the pairing.




Thank you all for listening. It’s been a joy from the heart.

To read the whole Guerlain Chamade Series, visit Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 clicking on the links. 

Photo: Guerlain Chamade advertisement, via Google